Outside the Window
by J9
Summary: Teresa looks out her window (JoelTeresa)


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Title: Outside the Window

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Author: Jeanine

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Fandom: Boomtown

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Pairing: Joel/Teresa

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Rating: PG

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Disclaimer: NBC owns everything. 

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Notes: For the LiveJournal FirstLines1000 challenge posted September 19th 2003.

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Teresa stands by the window, the tips of her fingers against the cold glass. From here, she can see the car on the other side of the street, the same car that she's been staring at for the last twenty minutes. 

The car hasn't moved since its driver got in, just like it stayed still for the first fifteen or so minutes that it first pulled up, before the driver got out, came across the street to her apartment building and pressed the buzzer. 

She knew it was him, and she knew he knew she was home, but it took a long time before she could make herself press the button to let him up. 

He'd waited though; she'd known he would. 

Still though, he'd been as eager to get this over with as she; stepping into the apartment, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, his posture radiating discomfort, his eyes radiating confusion. He hadn't beaten about the bush though; he never did. 

"We need to talk," he'd said, and those few simple words had thrown her back in time a number of hours, to the scene of an accident resulting from a car chase he'd been involved in. Both he and Fearless had been fine, but the five-year-old in the car, the child kidnapped by her own father, had been seriously injured, and Teresa and Randy had done everything they could to try to keep her alive. 

It just hadn't been enough. 

She'd been at the hospital, had excused herself to compose herself, slipping into a deserted room. She hadn't realised that he'd been watching her, hadn't bargained on him following her, making sure she was ok. She certainly hadn't bargained on his concern dissolving any semblance of control she might have had, hadn't expected to find herself crying in his arms. 

And when she straightened up, she certainly hadn't expected him to reach up, brush her hair out of her face, for his hands to linger on her cheeks. 

She doesn't know who moved first, but the next thing she knew, they'd been kissing one another hungrily, her hands slipping under his jacket and sliding up his shirt, one of his cupping the back of her head, the other sliding down her back, pressing her to him. 

The kiss had been broken by mutual consent, and both of them had been breathing hard and shaking when they'd pulled away. She'd been sure that the shock she'd seen in his face was equalled in her own, but dismay had quickly taken its place and he'd rushed out of the room. She'd taken her time, banishing the thought that she hoped no-one saw him, because it would have been obvious that something had happened. 

He'd called her cell later, told her that he wanted to stop by. 

She'd waited by her window all night, just to hear the words she already knew he was going to say. 

"Look," she'd said, cutting him off. "What happened today shouldn't have happened Joel. I was upset, I was emotional… things just got out of hand." 

He'd looked at her, one hand rubbing his forehead before going back to his side, and his next words had floored her. "It's been a long time coming though," he'd said. "I mean, it's not just me, right?" 

She'd met his honesty with her own. "No," she'd allowed. "It's not." 

He'd shaken his head. "I like you Teresa," he'd told her, shrugging his shoulders. A pause, then, "I'm crazy attracted to you," that with an amazed little laugh. "But I'm married… and I love my wife. I can't-"

She'd nodded, holding up her hand, as if he wasn't breaking her heart with every word. "I know," she'd told him, and she always had. No matter how much she might want to, she'd never let herself dream, never let herself consider the possibility that anything could happen between the two of them. Because he was married, and a father, and devoted to his family, and that very devotion was one of the qualities that she loved most about him. She wasn't about to break up his family, and if that meant breaking her heart, then so be it. 

He'd sighed as he'd come over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "If things were different," he'd begun, and she'd silenced him with a shake of her head. 

"But they're not." She'd taken his hand in hers, run her hands over his skin, knowing it was the most she could do, wishing instantly that they could do more. And from the sudden darkening of his eyes, he'd felt the same. "I'm glad you're my friend Joel," she'd whispered. "But you should go now." 

He'd nodded, but he hadn't moved away; instead leaning closer, brushing his lips over hers in not the passionate kiss of earlier in the day, but one more tender, more heart-breaking, one that said goodbye. 

Then he'd left, gone to his car and got in. 

He just hadn't driven away, and so she stands by the window, the tips of her fingers against the cold glass, and she can't help but note the counterpoint the surface presents to his warm skin. She still touches it though, the contact somehow helping her to feel closer to him, and she's torn, not knowing if she wants him to drive away or come back in. 

She's been standing there for half-an-hour when the car starts up, drives away slowly down the block, and her eyes follow the tail-lights until they're out of sight and she's staring out at the inky black night. 

A solitary tear makes its way down her cheek and she wraps her free arm around her waist, as if to physically hold herself together. Her other hand stays on the glass though, and it's a long time before she walks away. 


End file.
